


A Memoir in the Apocalypse

by apenny12



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 23:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2710706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apenny12/pseuds/apenny12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hears the blast go off and then everything is numb. In those brief moments between the light and the dark she feels everything and nothing all at once. Her life flashes before her eyes and she sees all that has happened and everything that could have been. *WARNING* graphic depictions and character death. *Beth-centric* Season 5 Episode 8 'Coda'</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Memoir in the Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> Although I REALLLLY want to curse Kirkman in my disclaimer...I refuse to be anything less than polite and give credit where credit is due. If not for him we would have never gotten to 'know' Daryl and Beth.
> 
> I've been trying to start on For the Ones You Protect for the past few days now and everything I've written have just been...sad! So I felt compelled to write this and get it out of my system. This is my interpretation of Beth's possible last thoughts as she meets her demise during the mid-season finale of season 5. I am heartbroken, but writing this...memoir has helped me feel more closure than any rant I could write (I posted a rather long one on my tumblr) or negative review I could read. I apologize in advance if this is too much for anyone to read, but I hope you finish with a sort of band-aid on your broken heart.

**Disclaimer:** A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.

 **Thank you** Nicole for reading this and fixing my mess. It's hard to write while you're crying so I appreciate you whipping my blubbering into shape!

...

She hears the blast go off and then everything is numb. In those brief moments between the light and the dark she feels everything and nothing all at once. Her life flashes before her eyes and she sees all that has happened and everything that could have been.

Images of her childhood rush through her thoughts; a loving mother, doting father, bossy sister, and overprotective brother. She sees the faces of her friends, locations of her favorite family vacations, memorable holidays, and the other important events that have occurred in her short life. The first memory that comes into focus is during the summer of her sixteenth year. 

She’s taken back to the farm where she hears a roaring down the dirt driveway to their home. She is able to make out what appears to be a motorcycle and wonders what kind of person would be so brave as to parade around on a two-wheeled vehicle that offers no protection while undoubtedly attracting the attention of the _people_ sick with this horrible illness. Then she sees him, in all his sleeveless glory, followed by a mid-size SUV and a RV full of strangers that are welcome only by a young boy’s dire circumstance. She never speaks with him, but her eyes follow him when she catches him wandering around their yard.

There’s a sort of distortion in her memories and she’s fast forwarded to the moment her bathroom mirror shatters. How weak she had been back then, wanting to give up and leave her father and Maggie. There’s an overwhelming fear, her heart feeling much like how her mirrors looks, and she selfishly wants to take control over her life once more. She presses the shard of glass against the soft, tender skin of her wrist and watches as it bleeds crimson. It was in this terrifying moment, when the blood continues to rush out from beneath her skin that she realizes the error of her decision. She can’t leave Maggie…her father...Jimmy. What would Patricia think of her if she took the easy road and cut out early after the older woman had lost her husband and was still putting one foot in front of the other? Who would make sure they were taken care of? Make sure Maggie didn’t make a rash decision out of anger? Make sure Hershel ate as regularly as possible? Help Patricia grieve the loss of Otis? She had just wanted everything to end, but as the throbbing pain of her wrist fell into sync with the beating of her heart, she recognized how much _more_ she wanted to _live_.

As the ache in her wrist began to subside, changing from an open wound to a puckered scar, she finds surroundings altering as well. Now sitting around a campfire with a group of people and her family…or what was left of them anyway. A herd overran the farm, just as she had predicted, and forced them to flee from their home.  She’s singing _The Parting Glass_ with Maggie and she thinks everything might… _eventually_ be okay.

Oh, what she wouldn’t give to be able to be sitting around those flames once more, when she still had her father and Maggie. How she wished she could have sang _Patty Riley_ for her father one last time. If she could go back, she would change everything. She would have approached Daryl much sooner. She would have gotten to know him, spent more time with him, rather than watching him from a distance with her idle curiosity. She would have stopped her father from going with Rick to clear the cells. She would have warned them of the prisoners that would ultimately seal Lori’s fate and possibly prevented T-dog’s death. She would have never let Glenn and Maggie go on that supply run for Judith. She would have told them about Woodbury so that they could have gotten to Andrea sooner. She would have told Daryl about Merle. In hindsight, everything seemed to lead back to Daryl, but she would have sacrificed the precious time she had with him if it meant she could have saved the others. Maybe if things had gone differently it would have given her more time with the surly redneck, but life can only be understood while looking back; life has to be _lived_ in the moment.

In a blur she can feel a familiar, warm bundle in her arms and she hears the coos and gurgles of a child she loved as her own. She begins humming absently as she always had when holding a fussy Judith. She remembered when her days consisted of caring for Judy, helping around the cafeteria preparing food for their small community, tending to their clothes in the prison’s meager washing facility, and occasionally helping clear the fence of walker’s. Considering how chaotic the world had become, they had settled in and made a home behind those chain link fences.

Staring down at her diary, in the familiar, decorated walls of her ‘cell.’ Daryl comes into view and she immediately knows something is wrong. He tells her, in so many words, that Zach hadn’t made it back from the Big Spot supply run. She no longer cries. They don’t have the luxury of time to mourn their dead. She accepts it with a deep breath and moved to her ‘Days without Accident’ calendar; carefully taking down the three, leaving the zero to start over their counter. She doesn’t like the defeated look on his face and comforts him the only way she knows how; she gives him a hug. He seems to accept the gesture well enough because she feels his warm, strong hands gently cup her elbows. This moment burns into her brain. The feel of his solid chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat, and the slight wheeze as he breathes all make her feel so _safe._

She can hear the rumbling outside, much like when she had first seen Daryl, but the atmosphere is ominous. She’s running outside and her father is kneeling on the ground next to Michonne. The older woman’s katana held high over Hershel’s head by a man with an eye patch. Daryl hands her a gun and she wants to stop the one-eyed man so badly, but she fears the repercussions should she miss and hit an innocent by-stander. Before she can even finish her thought, the sword is swinging and a splash of dark, violent fluid begins seeping through her father’s shirt. All of her innocence is lost in that moment.

The world spins and she’s sitting in front of another camp fire, across from the one man she has had the least amount of contact with in their group. She’s tremendously achy from being trapped in the trunk of a car all night and emotionally drained from the grief of losing her father as well as finding the remains of the Woodbury people who had become a part of their group. While Daryl seems content sit around eating mud snakes and wallow in guilt over the loss of the prison…of their family, she knows they have to _do_ something. So she charges off into the forest to find some alcohol, because with her father gone, she no longer has to keep her promise to avoid such beverages.  

She takes out a walker that took her by surprise while she was searching for a drink. It’s the first walker she’s ever handled _by herself_ that wasn’t behind a chain link fence and its Daryl’s comment that makes her realize she _can_ make it out here. She may not be a sword wielding guru or tough as nails, but in her own right she is strong. She has an inner strength that she is just beginning to realize. It is only after a trip to a moonshiner’s cabin, a drunken argument that leads to a crossbow lesson and a late night heart-to-heart, that she and Daryl find themselves on the same page. As the flames of the cabin warm their back, she knows that they will find their group and everything will be okay.

In the blink of an eye its weeks later and she’s approaching a walker kneeled on the ground while making a meal out of an opossum.  She can feel the weight of the crossbow in her arms, not as pleasant as Judith, but it gives her a sense of empowerment. She teases Daryl about there being a time when she wouldn’t need him anymore which earns her a smirk. She smiles because he’s been doing that more; smirking and meeting her banter with comments of his own. While her mind is distracted, a trap snags the heel of her boot, but she manages to get the arrow in the walker’s face. She would boast about the fact she’d still hit her target, even when forced to the ground and having to shoot at an awkward angle, if not for the throbbing sensation that is becoming painful. He offers to carry her on his back, a “serious piggyback ride” he had called it, and she obliges. It was slightly awkward, but the strength of his hands and warm solidity of his back makes Beth realize just how much she misses being hugged.

It’s because of this feeling that she is brave enough to lace her fingers through his as they stand in front of the grave of someone’s ‘Beloved Father.’ She expects him to awkwardly detach himself, however his hand squeezes hers in return, and she decides that she will make more of an effort to initiate contact with him. She knows he would never be brave enough to reach out to her on his own, but if she’s reeling in the comfort of touching another person having gone most of her life receiving loving hugs and gentle strokes, she can’t imagine how Daryl must feel. This thought is further reinforced by their conversation at the dinner at the mortuary and there’s a moment between them. For the first time since they have been thrown together, he holds her gaze, and she feels that he sees her…he _really_ sees her…for who she is and who she can become. She feels like his equal. She doesn’t feel like a burden. She feels wanted, needed even, and before she can reply the dog has returned and is barking at the door.

Her heart aches as she realizes she is coming to the end of her own apocalyptic story. She knows what happens next. She wakes up in unfamiliar territory, Daryl nowhere in sight, and has become an unwilling affiliate of Grady Memorial Hospital. She knows that Daryl is out there. She knows that he will find her, but she wants out _now_. She doesn’t want to wait around for the next Gorman to approach her and she _refuses_ to end her story like Joan. Thus, she aligns herself with another member of the ‘hospital group.’ Noah proved he could be trusted when he took the blame for her after Dr. Edwards misguided her into killing a patient under his care. She had every intention of getting out right behind her ally, but as she’s tackled to the ground, she can’t help but smile that he at least was getting a second chance.

It’s at this point in her life that she recognizes the most significant change in herself; she no longer fears death. She’s either going to escape this hell hole or she’s going to die trying. Daryl is out there waiting for her after all, but she knows that no one is coming. No one is going to save her. She has to save herself. As she saunters down the hall, scalpel in hand, intent on ending the man who had betrayed her she sees an older woman being rushed into the hallway on a stretcher. After closer inspection she can make out the peppered hair and soft features of Carol. In that moment, her plan changes, and it’s no longer about _her_ but about the two of _them_. She will make sure Carol gets the care they need and then they will escape _together._

She makes her first mistake when she lets her anger get the best of her and mouths off to one of Dawn’s colleagues, Officer O’Donnell , who wants to take Carol off support. Dawn gives her the keys in the end and she’s able to get Carol the medicine she needs, but she knows she will have to be more careful in the future with keeping her emotions in check.

A few days later she finds herself sitting in seclusion, pondering how she and Carol are going to escape, when Dawn enters the elevator lobby. She hates the woman…no…dislikes her because her father taught her never to hate. She’s in the middle of a heated discussion with the older cop when O’Donnell interrupts them. While it may have been Dawn fighting the man, in the end she had still been manipulated into shoving him down the elevator shaft. She replays the scene over and over again in her head while she sits in Carol’s room, praying her loved one would wake up soon.  Several things had been revealed during Dawn’s pissing match with O’Donnell, but it’s the conversation in Carol’s room that she learns the most disturbing information about Grady Memorial Hospital. While it’s clear there are several ‘bad’ cops, it’s Dawn that’s the root of all the evil. As long as Dawn is in charge, the patients will continue to be mistreated, raped, and held against their will. She concludes that Dawn had long ago abandoned the idea of using the hospital to _heal_ people and was now using it to manipulate and control others. Much like her suicide attempt, the need for control was all that mattered to Dawn. If the lead officer was out of the picture, then the hospital as it stood would figuratively crumble.

She ends the conversation quickly, telling Dawn she wants to be alone, and Carol is smart; pretending to still be unconscious. When it is safe to talk, she rushes to the hospital bed and wraps her arms around the first familiar face she’s seen in weeks, months maybe. She quickly informs Carol of their predicament and Carol tells her of everything going on outside the hospital in equal haste. They sit in silence, relishing in the fact that they’re both still alive, and she’s happy for the first time since being separated from Daryl. Despite her doubt, her father’s words on having faith abruptly resonate in her head; Daryl had found her and was coming to save her.

Now she has come full circle.

Seeing Daryl standing across the hallway, their eyes never leaving each other, was the happiest moment in her entire life. She watches as he wheels Carol away, turning back and staring intently at her as she approaches them and she can finally _breathe._ She did it…she survived…she _made_ it…she was strong…and Daryl had come for her. She feels more confident with each step she takes and then Rick is touching her and she feels so relieved, but it’s when Daryl’s hand brushes against her that she feels _home._

She should know by now that when things seem too good to be true, it’s because they generally are, and such is the case when Dawn’s voice shatters their deal. Noah will be trapped again and the hospital will be as it always had been; full of evil. She rushes forward, despite Daryl trying to hold her back, and embraces Noah in a helpless hug.

Then Dawn’s comment breaks her resolve. Officer O’Donnell had been right all along; Dawn had lost her way.

She can’t accept leaving Noah to his fate and she finally understands what Dawn meant when she claimed to be the only one capable of taking out her mentor. Although the older cop means absolutely _nothing_ to her, she knows she has to rid the hospital of its evil. None of the others in Grady will stand up to Dawn. The bad cops are content with being allowed to continue their wicked ways and the good cops have nowhere else to go if they fail to take control away from their ‘leader.’

“I get it now…”

Pulling the scissors from her cast, she thinks she’s much more like Maggie than she originally believed, allowing her anger to motivate her next move. She locates what she believes to be the carotid artery, but in her furious haste, she stabs the suture scissors lower than intended. Then it’s over.

Visions of finding a safe haven with her loved ones, a brown haired, blue eyed baby girl, Daryl smiling, and surviving this world are the last images she sees. What could have been seemed so…perfect. Her story wasn’t over. She had more left to give, more to learn, and more to prove. It’s all too abrupt. She’s not ready to go yet.

In a fleeting moment of sadness, she wonders…will Daryl be okay? She wants to worry, but her emotions are leaving her. Her last thoughts are of Daryl’s strength and what she had learned from him. She knew that Daryl would continue to fight and he would in fact be the last man standing. Her father might have raised her, but Daryl had made her strong. She just hoped that she had made as much of an impression on his heart the same way he had _taken_ hers.

In the end she’s floating, feeling light and warm, and there’s no more pain…no stress…no struggle to survive. She can hear her mother calling her, sees her brother’s smile, and feels her father’s strong arms enveloping her, but she takes once last glance over her shoulder. He’s standing over the shell that had once held her soul, crying tears that she wished he would never have to shed for her, and she turns to her father who gives her a look of understanding. In her last moments in limbo, she reaches down and wraps her arm around the man who has taught her the meaning of true love. Try as she might, she can’t kiss away his tears, but keeps kissing his cheeks regardless. Knowing her time is growing short; she lifts herself up on her toes and presses her lips against his. She knows he can’t feel her, but she feels _everything_. She feels his loss, his pains, but most of all she feels his love for her. Stepping back, she smiles up at him for the last time. As her body begins to fade, she whispers softly into his ear the same words she spoke to him at the mortuary, right before they had been ripped apart. It only seems fitting that her last words to him while she had been alive were repeated as she departs the earth.

_“I’m not gonna’ leave you... I will_ never _leave you Daryl Dixon."_

**Author's Note:**

> So our ship may never happen ON SCREEN, but something to remember is that it's been happening in fanfictions for years now. Beth's death is tragic...flat out ridiculous and COMPLETELY out of character...makes me beyond livid...senseless...and totally unjustified, but we have no control over the show. The writer's (in my opinion) did a horrible job with Beth and I feel most of the characters have been OOC these last episodes compared to previous seasons. Again, just my opinion, but I haven't been satisfied with season 5 thus far besides the fact that my favorite character has been axed.
> 
> My point is...just because Beth is no longer in the show, that doesn't mean we can't still enjoy stories about her. We'll never know if Bethyl would have happened on screen, had she lived, but ANYTHING we write is better than the garbage that was season 5 episode 8 'Coda.' So I apologize again if I've upset any of you further with this story, but this was necessary for me to be able to write other material. It healed my heart a bit at the end so I'm hoping it has done the same for some of you. I'll NEVER get over Beth's death because she deserved SO MUCH MORE, but I promise to give you all a season 5 we deserve when I write For the Ones You Protect.
> 
> All of you who pm'd me after the episode...THANK YOU! You guys helped me work through my emotions and I can proudly say I only spent ONE sleepless night bawling my eyes out! Crazy how attached to these fictional characters we become. I've never been so invested in a series or a character as I am with Beth Greene in The Walking Dead. I hope this story makes you proud Emily! XOXO


End file.
